


Intruder Alert

by elementalv



Category: Thursday Next - Jasper Fforde
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-25
Updated: 2007-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-25 08:34:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1641731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elementalv/pseuds/elementalv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I had no idea how he ended up in the Fellowship of the Ring, and now wasn't really the time to ask."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intruder Alert

**Author's Note:**

> Written for omphale23

 

 

We stared at each other for a long time. Too long, if I’m being brutally honest, but it wasn’t as if I could help myself. It was an absolute impossibility, yet there it stood before me. Wearing leather. And a rather knowing grin. 

I said, rather stupidly, “You don’t belong here.”

“What makes you say that, love?”

“Please call me Miss Next or Thursday. I’m not particularly fond of meaningless endearments.”

“Yeah, fine. So what makes you think I don’t belong here?” He gave me a fairly lecherous look, one it was clear he’d had success with before. I found myself reacting to it and had to shake off the power of his suggestion.

“For one thing,” I said, “you’re a character on television —”

“Not really.”

“And for another, we’re in the mines of Moria,” I continued, ignoring his denial for the moment. 

I had no idea how he ended up in the Fellowship of the Ring, and now wasn’t really the time to ask. Gandalf and Frodo and the rest of the Fellowship would be arriving shortly, and if I didn’t get this interloper out of the book post-haste — I shuddered to think of it. We were still dealing with fallout from the Jane Eyre affair, and that book didn’t have nearly the impact Lord of the Rings had on society at large.

“Yes, well. Not like I _wanted_ to be here.”

“Right. Fine.” I nodded briskly, hoping to project an air of calm competence. “Then if you’ll come with me, Mr. Giles —”

“Ripper.”

“I beg your pardon?” God save me from delusional characters.

“My name is Ripper, not Giles. He’s the git who’s on the television show, not me.”

As if delusional wasn’t enough, he was also suffering a break from reality — so to speak. Just what I didn’t need, yet he didn’t look to be in a hurry to leave, so I decided to humor him. But then a thought occurred.

“If you’re not on the television show, are you in one of the tie-in books? Perhaps one that’s soon to be released?”

He looked as though I’d just suggested he commonly initiated carnal relations with a sheep.

“Cor, no!”

That just wasn’t right. Rupert Giles had very specific speech patterns — ones I’d been obligated to learn when the books started coming out — and the character before me didn’t match up at all. He sounded a bit like the Giles in the Band Candy episode, but even so, horribly out of character. I worried that there might be a virus lurking about.

I spoke carefully, as if to an invalid. “Then exactly where are you from?”

“Fanfiction,” he said proudly.

It was worse than I thought — he _was_ the virus. 

 


End file.
